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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27132601">lions paw</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ccakey/pseuds/ccakey'>ccakey</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Halloween Movies - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dry Humping, F/M, First Time, Intercrural Sex, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vanilla</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:54:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,857</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27132601</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ccakey/pseuds/ccakey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael and Claudette extend mercies to one another. Michael only has a vague idea of how sex works.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Claudette Morel &amp; Michael Myers, Claudette Morel/Michael Myers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>lions paw</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i havent written fanfic in 5 years but enjoy this mydette fic!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Small. Chest beating, her breaths fast and hurried.</p><p>Claudette finds herself alone, in Haddonfield, tucked away in a locker. She swears that she can feel a presence nearby, and the hinges on the locker would surely give her location away. She wants to leave unscathed, and luckily for her The Shape hasn’t been too keen on pursuing her.</p><p>She closes her eyes, just for a moment, and her heart rate drops enough where she can hear herself think.<em> Okay, coast is clear, </em> she thinks to herself, and slowly opens the locker. Her search for the black, foggy comfort of the hatch begins. </p><p>When a deer runs through the woods, it steps so carefully as to not harm the foliage, walking lightly to leave no trace behind, so the wolf can’t track her. That <em> thing </em> pursuing her is no wolf.</p><p>She walks lightly, gracefully, hiding behind shrubs and white picket fences, behind tonnes of concrete that block the streets. She cannot hear the hatch, however, she can hear quiet breathing, breathing that isn’t her own.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>When The Shape had arrived in the fog, Claudette had been lucky enough to evade him, but in his place she had been regaled with stories from Dwight and Jake, how The Shape had grabbed them by the necks, impaled them in a way that even the Trapper wouldn’t. In trials, Claudette has had the fortune to escape with her life, he’s been more interested in finding and killing Laurie over anything else, and as much as Claudette felt guilt over having someone else be a meat shield, she was grateful that Laurie knew enough about self defense to keep herself and her team safe against The Shape. But Laurie wasn’t here, so <b>he</b> had made quick work of Dwight, Nea and Jake. And now Claudette.</p><p>She began to sprint, though she’d never been much of an athlete at all (quite the opposite, really), now vaulting through fences, she wanted out of whatever game the entity was playing on her this round. She looked behind her, why is it that <b>he </b>walks so much faster than she can run? Why is his white visage getting closer? Why is she running out of breath so fast?</p><p>Claudette was never one to deal well with anxiety, and she found her vision going hazy as her heart pounded. Her legs crossing in a motion similar to that of running, but now she finds herself tripping and falling. Deer stuck in headlights, this had never happened to her.</p><p> </p><p>Fight, Flight, <b>Freeze</b>.</p><p> </p><p>In a state of panic, Claudette racked her brain, how do you talk your way out of being eviscerated by an entity who only knows violence? Empathy?</p><p>“Lau- uhm,” She figured it was best to not mention Laurie. “I...I know your name is Michael.”</p><p>This elicited no response. </p><p>“Michael uhm, please, let me just g-go to the hatch, please?”</p><p> </p><p>He tilted his head. Claudette began to slowly stand up, not breaking eye contact, her frame so light yet feeling too heavy on her shaking legs. Before she could fully stand, he put a hand on her shoulder, pushing her back down to the ground, Claudette still too shocked to realize what was going on. Michael also lowered himself to the ground, sitting in a way that almost felt like kneeling. </p><p>He stretched out an arm expectantly. Claudette’s eyes widening in realization. He was like the Lion with a thorn in its paw, but it had seemed someone had impaled his hand with glass, instead of his shoulder. <em> Huh </em> , she thought, <em> he feels pain </em>. She looked back up at him, head tilted, expectant like a puppy. Had he been watching her heal teammates all this time? Was he waiting for his turn? She welcomed the change in dynamic, better to pull a thorn from the lion's paw than be it’s lunch, she figured. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Usually when one applies hydrogen peroxide to a wound, they would recoil from the stinging sensation. It seems as though Michael’s tolerance for pain is somewhere between having your wounds sizzle, and being stabbed through the hand with a shard of glass. Gently, Claudette wraps his large hand with gauze, every few seconds looking into the darks of his mask, hoping to get some kind of acknowledgement that maybe, just maybe, she’s earned his mercy. </p><p>Michael brings his hand to himself, looking at it curiously. He begins to hold his mask at his neck, Claudette instinctively scooting back an inch at the unexpected movement. Blonde locks begin to peek around his neck, <em>why is he taking his mask off?</em> <em>No way</em>, she thinks, he’s a person, probably about her age too. Long blonde locks, and stubble as though he’d only gone a few days without being groomed. Not your average serial murderer, that’s for sure. Stunned by having all her expectations shattered, she’s broken out of the stupor when she realizes he had removed the gauze and had started licking at his wound. </p><p>Hurriedly, she grabs his hand, “No no nononono, Michael, no.”</p><p>He looks at her, his eyes cold and empty, as if she’s interrupted a cat mid meal. “O-or, uhm,” she whimpers as she slowly moves back, “you can do that, it’s fine. Sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>He begins to lap at any remaining blood dripping from the wound, while looking right into Claudettes eyes. Even when she’d look away, trying to focus on the grass breaking through the pavement, she could feel his eyes burning a hole in her.</p><p>When he’s apparently done, he returns to sitting on his knees, somewhat mirroring Claudette. She looks around, eyes jolting from left to right. He was still looking at her. Was she shy? Chiding herself in her mind for even blushing, boys were never interested in her, so having one stare at her expectantly is far too alien for her to comprehend. Is...is she supposed to do something? Michael begins to shift his weight, looking down at himself then back at Claudette. Was this an instruction? Her eyes follow his, only to notice something that made her heart skip several beats.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>A tent had formed in his coveralls, his breathing just barely more labored now than before. He began to lean forward, shifting his weight onto his hands, his face now inches away from Claudette’s. His eyes hazy, to an outsider it would seem that he was at <b>her </b>mercy, the desperation emanating from him obvious enough that even Claudette could parse what he wanted.</p><p> </p><p>And the worst part? She didn’t mind. At all.</p><p> </p><p>She leaned forward and gave him the smallest peck on the lips, inexperience written all over her lips. He stayed there, as if to demand she try again. Slower than before, she leaned in and kissed his lip again, inching closer towards him so that when they pulled apart, they could feel each other's breaths. She looked at him, frozen. Did he want more? Was she doing good enough so far? Before she could peck at his lips again, he shifted towards her and began pecking at her lips, mimicking the light movements she had made with her lips. </p><p>She began to lean back further, and he responded by moving closer, until he was on top of her, his elbows now on the ground beside her head. He began to push his tongue at the seam between her lips, and she cautiously obliged. His tongue begins to intrude and probe at her own, as though he was searching for <em> something </em>. She began to hiff lightly from her mouth into his, prodding him on. He pulls away and looks at her, and maybe out of shame for letting the man who sacrificed her friends to the entity taste her, she moves her head to look away. He leans back in, closing his mouth around a soft spot on Claudettes neck.</p><p>He begins to lap and suck at her skin, continuing as the sensation causes Claudette to shift and moan under him. The throbbing heat between his legs grows stronger as his ears are filled with the soft, desperate moans of the woman under him. With his knees, he begins to push at Claudettes legs, a suggestion that she moves them. She obliges, first without realizing what it was exactly he was having her do. He lowers his hips down to hers, and begins to rut.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh!”</p><p>Michael freezes mid-rut, attentive to what Claudette may say next.<br/><br/>“Keep...keep going, it’s okay. It feels good, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Slowly he continues to hump at her crotch, his clothed girth shifting against her faster with each thrust. He begins to lower his weight onto Claudette, his arms moving under her so his grasp on her grows tighter, and his cock to better grind against her. He returns to licking at her mouth and lips, poking his tongue back into her, tasting hers. His cock is now throbbing, wet patches developed on both of their crotches, precum leaking from his massive girth, enough that even though all these layers, Claudette could feel it. </p><p>Claudette gasps as Michael flips her over, his clothed cock now grinding against her from behind, his hips bouncing on her ass as his girth seeks the warmth of her dampening crotch. His teeth now bite at the back of her neck, his mouth sucking at the skin, as though to leave a mark. His thrusts begin to get heavier, and faster. Claudette moaning and exhaling softly with every bounce. She can feel the exhales from his nose getting hotter and harder, and her hand manages to fit its way under her pants from the front, despite the weight on her body. She begins to hurriedly finger at her clit, at an attempt to meet Michael at his climax.</p><p> </p><p>“Keep going…” was all she could muster, as his gyrations picked up with more intensity as before. He felt himself reaching his peak, his thrusts getting more desperate, more messy, more <em> hungry </em>. The first spurt of cum bleeds through the fabric of his coveralls, and his rutting slows. His breaths now become whines, as he continues to cum. His grasp on Claudette only grows tighter as he finishes, his cock pulsing as his balls empty. So much so that Claudette can feel wet stains develop all over the crotch and ass of her pants, embarrassment hitting as she reaches her own climax from her hand. </p><p> </p><p>It’s oddly silent, Michael is still on top of her, but he’s still. His mouth finally lets go of the grip it had on the nape of her neck. He begins to shift his weight away, enough as to where he’s beside her instead of on top of her, yet he rests on his side, facing her. </p><p>“Ah…Michael...I just, I need a minute.”</p><p>He scoots his body closer to hers, his arm now resting over her back as he curls around her. Something about her fascinates him, her gentle demeanor, her careful cleaning of his wounds. He hasn’t had anything like this, not under the fluorescent shine of Smith’s grove.  Maybe they can stay just like this, for a while, before he has to let her go.</p><p> </p>
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